The Black Wolf

The local coffee shop wasn’t a name-brand place. A cute hole in the wall, mom and pop vibes, farmhouse eclectic. Tito’s Cafe was a ten-minute walk from her apartment. The weather was starting to warm up in Austin, Texas. For the beginning of April, the high was supposed to be seventy-seven. It was eight in the morning, and the air held a crisp chill. Trying to save money, she rarely went out for coffee, but she needed to get out of her empty apartment. Tired of job searching and needing a change of scenery. She had just moved less than a week ago.

That had been a nightmare. The moving company had gotten the addresses mixed up and unloaded all her stuff to a house on the south side of Austin. When the apartment she was renting was on the north side. The couple who bought the house had been really nice about the whole thing.

Neither she nor the couple had been there when the movers dropped off her stuff. The movers had the lockbox for the house keys. Unloaded all her stuff into their garage. They had been heading back out of state by the time they realized all this. So, they couldn’t pack it back up and move it to her apartment. They were like, ‘We’re sorry there’s nothing we can do about it now.’

They had refunded her deposit, but that was it. Most of her stuff was still in the couple’s garage. She felt bad, as it had been going on a week now and she still hadn’t been able to find someone to help her move her stuff out of their garage. It wasn’t a lot of stuff, but enough.

Having no car yet. Arianna and her ex had shared a car before. But It had been his. He didn’t use it much because he worked from home. So, he had been letting her use it. She had been saving up for one, but now she didn’t have enough money after moving and losing her job to pay for a car, movers, and rent. Renting a Uhaul truck to bring her essentials to the apartment, along with first and last month’s rent, had drained her savings. She had promised the couple that she would get her stuff out ASAP.

The coffee shop was busy, with people hustling off to work and taking their kids to school. Standing in line because they didn’t have mobile pickup. Everyone going about their morning routines. Finally, she made it to the counter.

“I’ll have a large iced dirty chai, please,” she told the older gentleman behind the counter. Paying for her drink, she moved to wait for it near the pickup counter. Others waited nearby. A handful of people were sitting down, working on their computers or chatting with one another.

“Black coffee for T. Dirty chai for Arianna,” the girl at the pickup counter said.

Arianna grabbed her drink, turned and collided with a large framed body. Her drink, which she had been holding in front of her, squished between her chest and his body. The cover popped off. Covering both of them with iced chai and coffee. A firm hand grabbed her arm to keep her from falling over.

“Oh! I’m so sor-ouch!” Mid-apology she felt a drip of hot coffee spill onto her shoulder and neck. It was a small amount, but it hurt. She stepped back and to the side, recoiling from the hot coffee. Still holding her now a fourth full cup. His hand let her go. Her drink soaked her shirt, dripping down her shirt, cardigan, and the front of her pants.

“I’m very sorry. Are you alright?” A deep male voice said, he had a slight Italian accent.

Lowering his arm that had held the coffee above them like he was trying not to spill on them both, but it had anyway. He grabbed some napkins from the pickup counter and handed them to her.

Finally, she looked up to see gorgeous dark forest green eyes looking at her. A handful of napkins in his hand, offering them to her. She had been holding her shirt neckline away from her neck, on reflex at the sticky wetness now touching her skin. Grabbing the napkins from him, she dabbed the now warm coffee dripping down her shoulder and neck. And then dabbed at her soaked shirt. Her embarrassment flooded her chest.

At this point, the majority of people had stopped to stare at them. She blushed, mortified. How could this get any worse? She wanted the ground to swallow her up right there. Turning back to the man, she swallowed a lump in her throat and willed her tears not to fall.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, looking at his wet green henley shirt and then her purple shirt and black cardigan, as if she still believed this couldn’t be happening. Feeling tears prickled at her eyes.

“Hey,” he said gently, offering her more napkins, “It’s okay, just a bit of coffee and chai. It will come out. Is your neck okay? It looks red. Tito, can I get some ice?”

His voice carried over everyone else. Strong and confident. His dark brown hair looked and an effortless messy look. The top was longer, touching below his eyes, the sides and back shorter. His skin was golden-tan. He was very handsome. Masculine features, a sharp jawline, perfectly proportioned. Not to mention his obviously workout. His chest had been rock hard. The long-sleeved shirt did little to hide his muscles. Not to mention the smile he was giving her was swoon-worthy. People went back to their business, glancing at them and their mess.

Tears welled in her eyes as she turned away and ran to the bathroom, overwhelmed with it all. Locking the door behind her. Leaning on the door, she choked back a sob, covering her mouth. Tears rolled down her cheeks. This was the cherry on top of what made up the disaster of her life at the moment. She had moved to start anew, and it was turning out to be equally messed up.

A few moments later, a firm but gentle knock sounded on the door. She startled at the sound.

“Are you alright in there?” The man’s voice came from behind the door. The same man she had bumped into.

“Y-yes…,” she said, wiping her tears and sniffling.

Realizing then that she was still holding her drink. She tossed it in the garbage and washed her hands, then wiped off as best she could the drink from the front of her clothes.

“I have a cup of ice here for you,” his voice came again.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” her voice sounded through the door. Trying to gather herself. Glad her voice didn’t waver too much.

After a few minutes, Arianna unlocked the door and opened it a crack. Feeling embarrassed looking up at him. She was sure she looked like a wreck. He handed her the cup of ice.

“For your neck,” he said gently, offering her a soft smile.

“Thank you,” taking the cup from him.

He moved away from the door so she could get out. Stepping out of the bathroom, she stopped, hesitating. What did everyone in the restaurant think? She flushed, mortified.

“Hold on. I’ll be right back. Alright?” He leaned down to search her eyes. Arianna nodded.

What was he doing? She wondered.

He went back into the cafe and a few minutes later came back with a new iced dirty chai for her. Smiling, he handed it to her. God, he had a gorgeous smile.

“Thank you,” she said, blushing. She was the one who wasn’t looking and crashed into him, and here he was being super sweet about the whole ordeal.

“Shall we?”

Looking at him in question, unsure of what he was getting at.

“I’ll walk you out. More likely that they think we know each other. Fewer prying eyes,” he said, with another smile.

She swallowed hard, but nodded. It was a thoughtful gesture. For a stranger she didn’t know, who she had just spilled her coffee on, to go out of his way for him like this. Her past made her feel cautious. But he didn’t seem like a bad guy. And he seemed to know the owner of the coffee shop. He couldn’t be a bad guy, right?

They walked together through the cafe and out the door. He held the door open for her. Walking next to each other along the sidewalk for a few moments.

Arianna glanced at him. He seemed to glance down at her at the same moment. Before they both looked away as if it had been accidental that they had caught each other’s eyes. Making about ten feet, his phone rang. They stopped on the sidewalk. He looked at his phone and glanced at her.

“Excuse me,” he said. Pulling his phone out and answering it .

“No…yes…no, no. I’ll be right there,” he looked back at her almost apologetically. Hanging up his phone.

“I hope your day gets better. Take care of that burn. Cool compress and burn cream if you have it.” He smiled at her and turned back towards the cafe. Jogging past it and down the sidewalk, disappearing around the corner.

Standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, holding her drink, she looked after him. Dumbfounded.

Arianna realized she hadn’t gotten his name. Why should she have gotten his name? Why would he want to know her name? She had spilled coffee all over him and herself. Embarrassing herself.

Why was that the first thought she had? He was very good looking. Strong facial features. Deep but kind eyes and tan skin. But his appeal was not the reason. He made her feel seen. Stopping his day to show her kindness when her life felt like it was unraveling. He would never know what that meant to her. She would never see him again. Shaking her head, and headed back to her apartment for more job searching.

***

Two weeks later

Arianna jogged around the corner of the business along the street. Her headphones in, her mind raging. Josh, her ex, had the nerve to call her and bitch to her about leaving. He broke up with her over a month ago, and out of the blue. And now he started texting her cute texts about two weeks ago. Then he called and wouldn’t leave her alone now. He was drinking again, and he became obnoxious and mean after the initial ‘I love you. I want you back’ cutesy texts. Like he did when he drank. One of the many reasons she left him.

The mid-afternoon sun beat down on her. The warmth and humidity caused her to sweat. Wearing a loose, wide-necked t-shirt, a purple sports bra, and dark purple shorts. Her phone and wallet were in her camelback on her back. The upbeat music swelled in her ears.

She had stopped jogging and was waiting for a walk sign at a crosswalk, shifting from foot to foot. The orange hand changed to a white walking person. She continued her jog through the crosswalk. About halfway across she tripped, her momentum carrying her forward. Placing her hands out and catching herself, cutting her knees and right hand pretty good. Wincing, she pulled one earbud out.

“Watch out!” She heard someone yell.

Looking up, Arianna saw a car heading straight for her. She froze. The world slowed down, and tunnel vision of the car barreling towards her. Sitting there in the middle of the crosswalk, she couldn’t even think to get out of the way.

Someone grabbed her suddenly and pulled her into their arms. Too stunned to do anything as they moved to the sidewalk. Car tires squealed, then an engine revved, more squealing tires. Closing her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest. Feeling the warm concrete under her. She opened her eyes and found forest-green eyes looking at her. There was a distant familiarity in his face. Arianna knew she knew him, but not from where.

“Are you alright?” He asked, his voice deeper and more gravely. She couldn’t believe it. It was the man from the coffee shop. His eyes were wild. He looked predatory and dangerous. Instinctively, she pulled away, fearful. His eyes immediately lost some of their edge as he let out the deep breath he took.

“Are you alright?”

She grasped for her bearings. Her adrenaline had skyrocketed. She nodded. People on the street were looking, curious about what had happened. She didn’t even know what happened. Recollection sinking in. A car almost hit her. How did he save her? Why was he here?

“Did you see that…,” someone asked.

“They blew through that red light…almost a hit and run…,” came the reply.

“I hope she is okay?”

“I think she fell…” someone else said.

“Did you see what that guy did?! He saved her!”

She heard people speaking, but her panic and adrenaline of the situation made her feel hyped up, but unable to focus.

“Can you walk?” The green-eyed man asked.

“I think so.”

He helped her stand, and she winced. Her ankle and right hand hurt the worst. It was bleeding a little. Her knees looked okay, scrapes but not too bad. Her ankle hurt like she had twisted it.

He ripped the bottom of his shirt and wrapped it around her hand. Easily with his hands as if he were tearing a piece of paper. Pulling her to him, they walked down the street. Pain throbbed in her right ankle. She was limping more as they went along. They walked about a block, then turned down an alley.

She hesitated. Where was he taking her? He stopped, as if he felt her hesitation.

“My place is right there,” he pointed about twenty feet in front of them. The back door to what kind of building? The back revealed nothing about the place inside. Still, she hesitated, glancing at him.

“I just want to help get you cleaned up. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his eyes concerned and almost pleading. He genuinely seemed to want to help her.

“Unless you would rather go to the hospital?” He asked suddenly, almost as an afterthought.

“No, this is fine,” she said, a little hesitantly. Again, with wariness. He was a stranger after all. But her gut told he wouldn’t hurt her.

Helping her to the door. Before he typed on the keypad. It beeped. He then pulled it open as they walked into the building. They stood in a hallway, stairs to the right, the hall leading straight ahead, two bathroom doors to the left, ten feet into the hall. The hall was dim. Arianna couldn’t see well. She felt his hand brush her lower back, guiding her to the stairs. She tried to take a step up the stairs, but her ankle buckled. His hands gripped her waist and her arm, steadying her. She shifted her weight onto her other foot.

He surprised her by scooping her up as if she weighed nothing. Letting out a small gasp of surprise. He carried her up the stairs. Arianna could see now that the windows looked tinted, high up the wall into the building.

They came to a landing that had many tables and chairs, large enough to fit about twenty people, maybe more standing. The light from the windows cast it in a dim grey shadows on the floor.

Crossing the landing together to the door at the other end of the space. He shifted her in his arms to press his thumb into the scanner on the door. Pushing the door into the dark room. Shifting to flick the light on with his elbow, before setting her down in a plush chair. He moved back to the door to another button, which made it automatically roll up. The soft sound of the motor filled the quiet office.

The room was a decent sized. Large dark wooden top desk with black metal legs and a tall-backed black leather chair behind it. The walls were a grey blue, the wall behind the desk was a cream. The wall behind the desk was a floor to ceiling bookshelf; floating shelves were a dark wood. A window occupied the right side. She sat in one of the two plush black chairs in front of the desk. A dark brown leather couch occupied the space right of the door.

Both the couch and the chairs had small wooden end tables beside them. To the left of the couch was a narrow wooden wardrobe. The same dark wood color as the shelves and the desktop. He went through another door opposite the window. She heard him rummaging around. When he came back to her, she finally noticed black jeans, Converse, and a dark blue shirt that hugged his chest and arms. The bottom four inches in front ripped across the entire front of the bottom of the shirt. Showing his waistband and a peek at his chiseled abs.

“Let’s wash your hands first,” he said, helping her stand and supporting her as she limped to the bathroom. His deep voice, pulling her away from staring at him and still trying to come to terms with what happened.

Together they moved to the bathroom sink. Turning the water on, he unwrapped his shirt from her hand and washed them. She winced as the water stung. Arianna watched as his fingers gently washed hers. Turning the water off, he carefully dried her hands before he looked them over. She had cut into the flesh below her thumb on her right hand; it had stopped bleeding. Which was a good sign. It wasn’t deep, but more damaged than her knees. He helped her sit down on the closed toilet lid, putting Neosporin on her palm and wrapping it and bandaids on her other palm.

She noticed how big his hands were compared to hers. She felt like she was in a movie. The damsel in distress who was saved by the knight in shining armor. In this case, the very good looking Italian knight in a snug green shirt. And now he was taking care of her again. Even after she spilled coffee on him two weeks ago. She wondered if he realized she was one in the same. Part of her hoped he did. Another part hoped he didn’t. This was almost as embarrassing at the coffee shop. Almost.

Her adrenaline had dissipated. Her ankle throbbed painfully. She thought maybe she had sprained it. Watching him as he cleaned off her knees and put a large square band-aids over them. He was so methodical in all his movements. No movement wasted. She now noticed tattoos covered his right arm to his wrist, and also his left arm above the elbow. His shirt did little to hide the fact that he was obviously fit. Every time he moved, she could see his muscles bunch and relax as he doctored her up. He glanced up at her from his kneeling position in front of her. Looking up, he caught her eyes. She was looking at him intently. Deep green, watchful eyes. Her stomach flipped at the intensity there.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Yeah, thanks to you,” she said, tucking a stray strand of hair from her ponytail behind her ear, looking away shyly.

“Is your ankle okay? It looks swollen,” he said, reaching out to touch it.

She winced and instinctively pulled her foot away at his gentle touch

“I probably sprained it…go figure,” she said, her mood darkening.

She had just gotten a new job as a server. Of all things. Not that being a server was bad. It’s just that she was a chef. She had gone to school to be one, and she was a good one. Not to toot her own horn. So, being a server was not how she had planned on making this work.

But because of her firing at the last job, which wasn’t her fault. She was having a hard time getting hired as a chef anywhere. It was competitive, and the rich guy she had been working for was not making things easy. The restaurants had called him, of course, as her pervious employer. And he had been less than forgiving. And now, having a sprained ankle, it would not make work easier. But what else could she do?

“Here, let me wrap it for you,” he said, gently untying her sneaker and pulling it off. Arianna let him. He found a wound-up bandage in the first aid kit, took it out and wrapped her ankle, criss crossing over the top. Snug but comfortable before clasping the end. Loosening the laces and slipping her shoe back on, and then tied the laces loosely so she wouldn’t trip.

“There. Now-,” his phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, he glanced at it.

“Sorry, I have to take these,” he said, looking annoyed.

“Go ahead. I’m not going anywhere.” He seemed to be a busy man. She wondered what he did for a living.

He stood and headed out of the bathroom and into the office. She could hear him murmuring, but could not make out anything specific. It sounded as if he had finished the call after a few minutes. There was a pause before she heard him talking again. A few minutes later, he came back into the bathroom. He ran his hand through his hair.

“Hey, I’m sorry about this, but I called my driver to take you home. I have something I have to take care of,” he seemed agitated.

“Driver? Um…you may want to change your shirt…,” she said sheepishly.

“Ah, yes, thanks,” he said.

As he turned away, he pulled his shirt off before stepping back into the office. She glimpsed his back covered in tattoos, large eyes over his shoulder blades. They looked like wolf eyes. Flat abs, a muscular back, his skin a golden brown, covered in tattoos, he was picture-perfect, like a model of something. Her stomach flipped, and she blushed. Seriously, what was wrong with her? She was glad he had left the room so he wouldn’t see her blush. Getting herself under control moments later when he came in wearing a new blue t-shirt.

“Come on. Louis will be here soon. He’ll drive you home,” he held his hand out to her.

Taking his hand, firm and warm, as he held hers. She glanced at him. He was watching her feet, making sure she got up okay and didn’t fall or anything.

“Look, you really don’t have to have your driver drop me off. I don’t live far.”

Helping her stand as she limped a few steps.

“Far or not, I’m not letting you walk home like this. Do you want me to carry you?”

“No, thank you. I can do it,” she said stubbornly. Grateful for his help, but determined to at least get down the stairs by herself, though her ankle throbbed now.

Slowly they made their way out of the office, across the lounge area and to the top of the stairs. She was now regretting her choice, but being stubborn, she gritted her teeth. She would make it to the bottom, eventually. He said nothing the whole time, positioning himself in front of her and by her side in case she fell. Her ankle was killing her, but she clenched her teeth and did it anyway without complaining.

They came out the back door just as a black Escalade pulled up. Limping to the car. He opened the door for her. She climbed in, feeling relief to be off her ankle. It throbbed.

She looked back at him as she sat in the car. He made sure she was in. Before closing the door, he stood his left hand on the door and right hand on the roof. He leaned in slightly to see her in the car. Her stomach flipped the way it might when you thought you’d get a kiss from a guy you had a crush on. He was entirely too good looking and probably way out of her league to be having butterflies around him. He had his own driver, come on!

“Elevate that ankle and ice it to help with the swelling,” he said, smiling at her.

“Will do. Thank you for everything,” she said, giving him a genuine, small smile.

He gave her a wink. With that, he moved and gave the driver the go-ahead, and closed the door. She gave the driver the address, which he voiced into his phone. It wasn’t until they were on their way that she realized again that she still didn’t know his name.

“I can give you my card when we get there if that’s okay,” she said to the driver.

“That’s all right. I work for him, he is paying for it. He insisted,” the driver said.

Her mouth hung open in surprise. “Oh, okay,” she said softly.

She turned to see him still standing there in the alleyway, watching the car drive off. That was awfully nice of him, a coffee and a driver. If she ever met him again, which was so unlikely, she would have to pay him back. She could come back here, maybe. He said it was his place, maybe a place of business?

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“What is his name? Uh, your boss?”

“Mr. Jackson.”

Thank you,” she said, not wanting to pry further.

So strange, all of this. He had again been so nice about everything. First a coffee, then saving her, and now loaning her his driver. Did he know she was one in the same?